KING CREOLE: Paramount Presents - Blu-ray (Paramount, 1958) Paramount Home Video

With his electrifying screen presence and roaring success as a recording artist, Elvis Presley effortlessly ignites in Michael Curtiz’s King Creole (1958) – a sort of seamy little melodrama, incalculably fleshed out by the enigma that was Elvis, and, a story providing ample opportunity for ‘the king’ to belt out some raucous juke tunes, as well as a ballad or two – always guaranteed to melt the hearts of the bobbysoxer sect. Curiously, the song ‘Hard Headed Woman’ scaled the Billboard pop charts, all the way to number two – an anomaly since, in the picture, it is barely heard for a few seconds as mere background. King Creole catches Elvis, as busboy come singing sensation, Danny Fisher, at the virtual beginning of his movie career. Elvis’ latter-day efforts would deteriorate into a throwaway franchise of frothy, fluffy sing-a-long travelogues, thanks to the gross manipulation of his career prospects by his manager, Col. Tom Parker, essentially to turn Elvis into his own personal cash register, while ostensibly sacrificing Elvis’ deep aspirations to become a ‘serious’ actor. Mercifully, Elvis is spared such indignation in King Creole. Indeed, in his first 4 movies, Love Me Tender (1956), Loving You, and, Jailhouse Rock (both in 1957), and, King Creole (1958), Elvis unequivocally proved he could emote with the best and carry the plot of any picture on his own. The movie co-stars, Carolyn ‘Morticia Addams’ Jones as Ronnie - a sort of needy sexpot gone slightly to seed, the ever-reliable Dean Jagger as Danny’s dad, Mr. Fisher, Paul Stewart - the benevolent, Charlie LeGrand, Vic Morrow, as Shark - a two-bit thug, and, Walter Matthau as Maxie Fields – the brutish boss of Bourbon Street. The picture is also notable for the re-appearance of doe-eyed Dolores Hart – a sort of stock company Grace Kelly knock-off, cast herein as Danny’s fresh-faced love interest, five-and-dim clerk, Nellie. Hart and Presley had previously costarred in Loving You.

Several decades later, Matthau would recount how Elvis respectfully approached him on their first day’s shooting to genuinely inquire about garnering some acting tips; Matthau, cordially suggesting he required none, as Elvis seemed to exude a genuineness on the screen most actors strive like hell to achieve through their artistry. From this auspicious start, the pair launched into their ‘big scene’ together, in which Maxie attacks Danny, smashing a wooden chair across his back. The prop was, of course, a cutaway, designed to break apart at the least provocation. Alas, the scene was shot right after lunch, and, although the chair splintered apart as predicted, it proved to have enough of an impact to make Elvis toss his cookies on the set. Slightly embarrassed, though undaunted, Elvis suffered his embarrassment, cleaned up and resumed the scene for a second take. In a case of ‘life imitating art’ this moment came with some unanticipated residual fallout for Matthau too. Shortly after King Creole opened, Matthau tells of an incident where he was strolling down a street in Georgia, passing an all-girl’s school when suddenly, one of its portly teenage students – who had obviously already seen King Creole in theaters – pointed an accusatory finger in his direction, shouting, “There’s the guy who beat up Elvis!” resulting in a stampede of angry girls chasing Matthau down the street to avenge their indignation.

King Creole was the brainchild of producer, Hal B. Wallis, who had acquired the rights to Harold Robbins’ novel, A Stone for Danny Fisher for a cool $25,000. Wallis had intended to cast the lead – in the book, a New York boxer – either with James Dean or Ben Gazzara. Dean, in fact, was the front runner for the role until his untimely death in 1955. Delayed as a movie, but premiering as a modestly successful off-Broadway stage play, Wallis remained unconvinced of transforming A Stone for Danny Fisher into a movie until Elvis was suggested for the lead. Thereafter, the project began to crystalize as screenwriters, Herbert Baker and Michael V. Gazzo began to tailor the project to Elvis’ strengths, changing the character’s profession from fighter to busboy, and, the location from New York to New Orleans. In some ways, King Creole proved ‘old home’s week’ for Wallis, who reunited with Hungarian-born zeitgeist, Michael Curtiz, with whom he had had an ongoing rapport during their tenure together at Warner Bros. It was Curtiz who ordered Elvis to shave off, not only his sideburns, but also a few pounds for the part; Curtiz again, who insisted the picture be shot in B&W, with Russell Harlan’s deep focus cinematography lending the streets of New Orleans and sets designed by Joseph MacMillan Johnson and Hal Pereira back at Paramount, their atmospheric noir texture. Initially, Curtiz had his misgivings about working with Elvis, believing he had signed on to direct a male prima donna. Curtiz was pleasantly surprised to discover the exact opposite was true with Presley, endeavoring to meet and exceed his director’s every demand, and, offer in every way to be a total team player – an investment and work ethic that not only immensely impressed Curtiz but also all of Elvis’ costars.

The entire production was thrown into a momentary tailspin after Elvis received his draft notice just one month before principle photography was slated to begin. Wallis and Paramount aggressively petitioned for a stay of enlistment, citing their considerable sums of money already poured into preparing the picture. In reply, Elvis was granted a 60-day deferment to complete the movie. Fourteen days after principle photography wrapped, however, Elvis was officially ‘in’ the army. With the exception of a few days shooting in New Orleans, mostly used for process plates in rear projection, virtually all of King Creole was recreated on back lot facsimiles to save time and money – also, to keep Elvis’ legion of fans at bay. Indeed, the principle cast never saw much of the French Quarter, and spent only a single day’s shoot at Lake Pontchartrain, subbing in for the scenes between Elvis and Jones, supposedly taking place on the bayou. Unable to keep Presley’s whereabouts a total secret from his adoring fans, Wallis did the next best thing, constantly relocating his star to keep his ravenous gawkers guessing, and, at bay – even going so far as to rent adjacent properties so Presley could escape the crowds by crossing from one property to the next, walking along the rooves.  

King Creole begins with a disappointment – Danny Fisher, ready to graduate from high school, denied the privilege a second time because of his attitude. Actually, Danny is just defending his little patch of self-respect. Not that it matters to his home room teacher, Mrs. Pearson (Helen Hatch) who absolutely refuses to allow him to pass, nor to the school’s principal, Mr. Evans (Raymond Bailey) – that is, until Evans gets to know Danny better. In a heart-wrenching monologue given in the principal’s office, Danny congenially lays down the law – having worked hard and long, all sorts of menial jobs after and before school, to help support his dad, who went to pieces and lost his job as a pharmacist, and sister, Mimi (Jan Sheperd) since the death of their mother. At present, Danny is working as a busboy in a nightclub owned by Maxie Fields. In arriving before school for his early morning shift, Danny witnesses a foursome of drunken revelers unwilling to leave the club. One of them is Ronnie – a singer who sold out her talent and is presently being pimpled out by Maxie. After her date decides to get a little too fresh and physically violent with her, Danny comes to Ronnie’s aid, ushering her into a cab. Alas, Danny is chided by a school mate (Fred Winston) for his ‘pick up’ whom he promptly belts in the mouth for his insolence.  

Denied graduation a second time, Danny elects not to return to school for a third try – a grave disappointment to his father. But Danny turns the tables on this shame, accusing his dad of not being able to hold down any job since mom died. To prove Danny wrong, Mr. Fisher gets a job at a local pharmacy after being chided by its manager, Mr. Primont (Gavin Gordon), but not before earning the respect of the business’ owner, Mr. Furst (Charles Evans) who, unfortunately, will be absent from the daily operations most of the time, and therefore unable to prevent Mr. Fisher from enduring the slings and arrows of his increasingly jealous manager. In the meantime, Danny continues to work as a bus boy at Maxie’s club. Alas, the student who Danny punched in the face gets his brother, Shark (Vic Morrow) and his cohorts, Sal (Brian Hutton) and ‘Dummy’ (Jack Grinnage) to hunt Danny down in a darkened alley for a little revenge. Mercifully, they are unprepared for the awesome street savvy Danny possesses. In short order, Danny neutralizes the situation, wrestling a switchblade free from Shark, who is thereafter very impressed with the way Danny handles himself. Shark hatches a plan. Danny will enter a local drug store, warbling a song on his guitar as a distraction while Shark and his boys rob the place blind. The ruse works – brilliantly – and Shark makes off with enough loot to net them $90 with a local fence. Alas, Danny becomes smitten with one of the girls working the counter – Nellie – who knows he is a part of the gang that stole the merchandise, but refuses to turn him in because she finds him attractive.

That evening, Danny returns to Maxie’s club – surprised to find Ronnie, all dolled up, and now, on Maxie’s arm. Maxie takes an immediate dislike to Danny. To diffuse the situation, Ronnie tells her date she only met Danny casually because he is a singer. To prove the point, and save Ronnie’s face, Danny agrees to an impromptu performance that dazzles the club’s patrons and confirms for Ronnie he is a talent with a real future ahead of him. Evidently, competing nightclub owner, Charlie LeGrand agrees. He offers Danny a chance to sing at his more modest nightclub – the King Creole – a decision that has Maxie trying to outbid LeGrand, a small-time operator, for the privilege of showcasing the young man’s talents. Danny, however, elects to accept LeGrand’s offer instead – a decision that infuriates Mr. Fisher. But LeGrand is a good guy, attracted to Mimi, yet also determined Danny should see his name in lights. Bypassing his father’s wishes, Danny’s debut at the King Creole is a resounding success. To celebrate, Danny tries to get Nellie to go with him to a seedy motel for a little…well…you know. She is so star struck she almost sacrifices her virtue to prove her love. At the last possible moment, Danny is ashamed of his attempt at seduction, and instead, escorts Nellie home – promising to see her again. However, on the way back to his flat, he again runs into Ronnie, who teases him with what he is really after right now – sex.

Having sworn off Shark and his cohorts, after Shark attempts to short-change Dummy in an unfair split of moneys accrued from their heist, Danny now invests himself completely in his singing career at LeGrand’s club. Even so, Shark – employed by Maxie, who is still after a hook to get Danny to see things his way – plots to hold up Primont after hours as he makes his way to the bank for the nightly deposit; the money to be split fairly, and thus help Danny get his father out of his menial job and spare him the humiliation of being chronically talked down to by Primont. Unfortunately, this evening Primont asks Mr. Fisher to take the deposit. As it has begun to rain, Primont also offers Fisher his raincoat and hat to protect him from the elements. In making his way across the street, Fisher is confronted by Shark and his goons, even though one of them clearly recognizes the man they are pursuing is Fisher – not Primont. Regardless, Shark intercepts Fisher, ruthlessly knocking him unconscious with a blackjack and stealing the deposit besides. Fisher is rushed to hospital where it is revealed he requires a very expensive surgery to alleviate the pressure on his brain or he will surely die. Now, Maxi sends in his skilled surgeon, Dr. Martin Cabot (Sam Buffington), who performs the ‘miracle’ operation that saves Fisher’s life, and, at no expense to Danny – well…sort of. As remuneration, Danny is expected to leave LeGrand’s employ and now work for Maxie.

Threatening to divulge the real reason for the robbery to Mr. Fisher, Maxie blackmails Danny into signing a contract with him. Now, Maxie lures Danny to the upstairs apartment where he keeps Ronnie on a very tight leash. Ronnie explains to Danny in private, if she fails to ‘please him’ and convince him to join Maxie’s organization, the repercussions for her will not be pretty. As Danny will not agree to such terms, Maxie plays his trump card. He exposes the truth about the robbery to Mr. Fisher who, deeply wounded by this revelation, momentarily disowns his son. Enraged, Danny storms Maxie’s flat and, after initially being subdued by Maxie, who viciously breaks a chair across Danny’s back, is nevertheless beaten into submission by Danny, who then helps Ronnie escape. In reply, Maxie calls out Shark and his goons to murder Danny. Mercifully, Danny is too smart and tough for them. In the ensuing struggle, Danny is superficially wounded in the arm by Shark’s switchblade, which he then plunges into Shark’s chest, killing him. Discovering Danny profusely bleeding in the alley, Ronnie hurries him into her car and out of the city to her little-known hideaway on the bayou where she nurses his wound until he has sufficiently recovered. The couple make plans to run away together and live obscurely abroad. Too bad, Maxie finds the location first with Dummy in tow, hurrying down the boardwalk to shoot the lovers dead. Ronnie, unable to escape, is shot and dies in Danny’s arms. But Dummy, having not forgotten the kindness Danny once showed him, now attacks his employer, wrestling Maxie off the docks and into these shallow waters. In their struggle, Dummy shoot Maxie dead. A short while later, Danny returns to the King Creole for an encore engagement, with Nellie re-entering his life as the ‘good girl’ with whom he was meant to align his future prospects.

King Creole is a cunningly padded melodrama; an immense box office success when it debuted. Interestingly, the picture’s backbone is more heavily weighted on plot than music – although the songs, integrated mostly as nightclub performances, are feathered in as brief respites to take full advantage of Elvis’ trademarked hip-swiveling finesse, interpolated with all the high-stakes melodrama playing out elsewhere. Action and characterization dominate the screen. Elvis showcases a rare gift for dramatic intensity, gone well beyond the usual expectations for pop singers of his day and generation. While the Baker/Gazzo screenplay bears no earthly resemblance to Robbins’ novel, from which supposedly its inspiration once derived, the originality of the piece more than makes up for lack of fidelity to its source material. Of the remaining performances, Carolyn Jones distinguishes herself in a role that so easily could have reeked of the ‘fallen woman’ syndrome, or otherwise to have just as immediately devolved into a wicked lampoon, or crying cliché. But Jones affords this drunken martyr, aborted in her own dreams, a distinct note of crushing dignity, lending genuine ballast to the stormy tragi-romance between Ronnie and Danny. If the picture has a flaw, it resides within the characterizations of its love interests, competently played by Jones and Hart, but rather slavishly devoted to our hero’s happiness. Neither Nellie nor Ronnie possess a reality nor a purpose outside of satisfying Danny’s needs, and, this renders them one-dimensional.  Even more curious, given Hollywood’s reigning censorship then, is Danny’s absolution from any lasting retribution for essentially indulging a wayward ambition to be a ‘someone’. One girl dies for him, while the other is mercenary in her devotion, even as it is not reciprocated until the very end, and even then, only out of necessity. Good things come to those who wait, indeed!  Even Danny’s father forgives him in the end.  I suppose it all works – rather succinctly, in fact – because Elvis plays the sly-eyed underdog rather well. As a result, nothing really sticks to Danny’s reputation. Nothing, in fact, is his fault, leaving the muddled morass of morality an ambiguous footnote.

King Creole arrives on Blu-ray – finally – courtesy of Paramount’s newly christened ‘Paramount Presents…’ line-up.  Of the 3 initial titles launched in this franchise, King Creole is the only one, as yet, to have never been given a Blu-ray release. The results, alas, remain mixed. While the picture was not shot in the studio’s patented VistaVision process, it is nevertheless re-composed in this format’s 1.85:1 aspect ratio, having been photographed in 1.37:1 and then matted to accommodate these screen proportions. But the image curiously toggles between moments of superb razor-crisp clarity and others where it appears as though whole portions have been artificially zoomed in, resulting in a slightly softer image with advanced film grain and slightly blown out contrast. These are not dupe negative inserts, because image quality toggles back and forth from shot-to-shot rather than scene-to-scene. Overall, these B&W elements will surely not disappoint. But the chronic fluctuation in overall clarity (which is not altogether jarring) is nevertheless, present and accounted for, resulting in sharp, then not-so-sharp, image quality – back and forth – that can be a tad grating. Contrast, on the whole is excellent. However, the image has a slightly scrubbed appearance. I am not entirely certain if DNR was applied in an attempt to homogenize the grain field. But the image does lend itself to a slightly waxy characteristic. Paramount has remixed King Creole’s soundtrack to 5.1 DTS, and, has also included the original mono.  The 5.1 is understandably more expertly resolved to showcase Elvis’ songs (all, of which, were recorded in true stereo for their release as singles). By contrast, the rest of the movie reverts to a flatter sound field, indicative of the original Westrex sound recording system. The only extra here is another introduction, lasting barely 7 min. by Leonard Maltin, who seems a tad more animated in his recollections herein than on those he offered on the Paramount Presents…Blu-ray reissue of To Catch a Thief.  Bottom line: King Creole is one of Elvis’ best movies. The Blu-ray is welcomed but only adequate, not exemplary. The ‘extra’ is of no consequence. What? No audio commentary from Maltin – or by somebody else? No, ‘making of’ or archival interviews with the cast and crew? For an Elvis movie? For a hi-def franchise being touted as a ‘collector’s series’ for fans? For shame!

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

4

VIDEO/AUDIO

3

EXTRAS

1